Wednesday, August 31, 2011

059: Trip to the treehouse

Eggshells rise and roll
the crowded dining hall
and fingers freeze pointing away;
on the jungle's rim, a foxhole,
leak through the pipe
and sandbox the mirage,
with a twitch of fear,
between sudden trenches
of the outside.

Freed to the vasts of self,
still quaked back in Cretan mirrors,
intimacy - desert well,
nurtured by the mute fading,
then dive it for a moment
to the berserk sound of life;
and before leaving here,
dust the patchwork
seeking a lifeline
all undividing.